Two Crowns, One Autumn
Alexander’s sorrow pen wrote stories of love,
She came, conquered, and ruled both heart and throne above.
They met in spring when flowers burned bright red,
And promised vows where future rivers led.
Autumn breathed with wings across the yellow sky,
Its song a whisper of the leaves drifting by.
The Nile exhaled in amber, slow and warm,
Holding their names within its final calm.
No chains of Rome could break what they had grown,
No power of time could claim them as its own.
When separation’s poison filled the air with grief,
They chose one last breath instead of brief relief.
He fell on steel, she took the asp’s cold kiss,
Not defeated, but by love and will restored.
Autumn died with last breath in the arm of Nile,
Yet love remains, and makes the season smile.
IRONY AND TRAGEDY
Which of life's cruel ironies
most stings upon the heart,
to die of thirst whilst lost at sea,
with age doth wisdom start?
Mere tragedies upon compare
to other fated ills.
One stands alone, pierced heart and bone,
a thousand times it kills.
Aphrodite, Cleopatra
even Helen of Troy,
dare not compare their beauty to
the first love of a boy.
Infatuation be thy god,
as sirens sing their song.
Long for romance, standing no chance,
it lies his whole life long.
The lady fair, of class refined,
she yet chose the outcast.
Be it uncouth, 'tis now her truth,
such fantasies don't last.
The indignation, ego's wound.
For her fate my heart tears.
To win or lose is not loves end.
My broken heart still cares.
I once was a tree near Hadrian's wall
That for a hundred years stood proud and tall
Then one day I was brutally cut down
Leaving broken hearts scattered all around.
My sycamore was a much treasured tree
For passers by ‘twas a precious must see
The felling was to all a dreadful shock
To the world it is a terrible loss.
As it's said, where there is life there is hope
Fortunately there is now new regrowth
One day my tree will stand there proud and tall
To honour the tree that came to a fall.
THE COMEDIANS’ TRAGEDY
My role is that of the Court Jester
also known as the Tudor Harlequin Clown,
I am much more than just a set of jokes
in front of audience members.
I wish to be a Shakespearean actor
but that is a fact nobody remembers.
To perform in tragedies,
to make the spectators not laugh but frown.
Anything from playing Romeo to Macbeth
while wearing his bloody crown!
The theatre life I want! Not the court life which is
as cold as the air in December.
I have tried time and time again but not prevailed.
I need to succeed by this new September.
I auditioned for many characters,
even Lady Macbeth while wearing her bloody gown!
At last, a new audition has come
up for a new Shakespeare play!
If I fail, what shall
I do hereafter?
After acting my heart out for the audition,
my mouth turned to the taste of morello.
To hear what I had been cast as that day;
am I bound to a life of laughter?
I find myself playing the
Clown from the tragedy of Othello…
EYE TRAGEDY NATURE-:-
always
again
eye
coursing
monteverdi
NIGHTSHADE
clangorous
sonant
smashing
viscus
youthful
TRAGEDY
forgotten
predetermined
devout
godlike
nefarious
The cowboy could rebel, his knitwork was a tragedy.
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
A tragedy lives on and on,
A tragedy is never gone,
If one tragedy dies another is born.
Roses and thorns,
A tragedy blows a haunted horn.
A lady in black tragically mourns
Her unfaithful lover who adjourned
The twisted tragic love sworn.
She loved him, she did with all she had,
But in the end she was the one who got sad,
Why did she get her humble heart broken?
Didn't she know that love is a lustrous lie often?
Where was her wise mind that always knew?
Was it on vacation with its feet under the ocean blue?
Now will she be able to mend her broken heart with glue?
Or will she keep waiting for the traitor who stole her heart and flew?
somber
morbid, solemn
depressing, darkening, distressing
funeral, tragedy, party, achievement
reveling, admiring, celebrating
pleasurable, enjoyable
festive
When her magic turns into tragedy
From the start you're the person I know,
But in the end you're the important person who I let go.
In the memories we made and shared,
And at last you're now gone, though I always cared.
When you lifted my strength and eased my sadness,
Mom, the flowers I brought are now my weakness,
Candlelight flickered like a dying ember in the wind.
Have blown in the wind with pain and regret.
I didn't reach you in time,
But I managed to reach your hand, close to mine.
The only last thing was in the hospital,
the news fell on me like a stone dropped in a still pool—silence followed each echo.
You're out of this world,
But I will never forget your reminder.
Mom, goodbye and I love you,
We will always be together.
He couldn't sleep. He wouldn't eat.
Into poetry, he would retreat.
His eyes would blankly stare
as he pulled out his last remaining hair.
He breathed a heavy, meaningful sigh
and noticed that his tongue was dry.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Thanks a bunch.
Enjoy your day. It's time for lunch.
He took his Mom shopping, so she could walk with a cart
She had cognitive decline, and failure of the heart.
He took her in a wheelchair on the river asphalt path
He took over the taxes, because she couldn't do the math.
He drove her to the doctors, cancer, cardiac and more
He cleaned up the dishes, he vacuumed the kitchen floor
He took out the trash, managed all the bills
No time for things he liked to do, like cycling up the hills.
No time to read new science, he felt sorry for himself
Always in a rearguard action against declining health
But he thinks of the many years, from the age of two
When she did all this and wrote books, an ethic to be true.
But there's a twist, though others see him as faithful son
He attracted bad guys attention and then hope was none.
Trouble found Mom's doorstep, in some ways he's to blame
A criminal attractor, Mom paid for his past stain.
Tragedy lies not in floods
Or in bankruptcies
But in whispers of lonely lovers
And unspoken intimacies
Late in September
I fondly remember
What caused loves engender
the days all in rhyme
Lost in September
a slave to indenture
My feelings surrendered
for you to be mine
Laughing we tendered
what pain could not enter
And boldly uncensored
each moment sublime
But Fall’s great pretender
October dismembered
Our fate the death chamber
— of Summer mistimed
(Poems Of Love: Merch, 2026)
I once knew a man of promise
He came to live by me
But now he’s gone
No longer here to see
I don’t know where he went
He has just gone.
Maybe he lost all hope
Got lost in transit
An un-delivered package
Shuffled off
Prepared to be burned
In the slums
Outside the central post office
Or killed in his sleep while dreaming.
And if he’s out in the fields
Talking to the asparagus
That would be a tragedy
But that’s another story
I can’t say where’s he’s gone
I haven’t heard from him
It seems like an eternity
Eternity, I once knew that too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
O crooked architect of thrones,
who stacked your realm on children’s bones~
How shall I curse thee?
Not with fire, nor with plague’s black breath,
nor with the slow unspooling of your death
(though history grants you that).
No. Let the curse be this:
that every mirror cracks before your face,
that every hound you feed still wears York’s scent,
that every victory tastes of Hastings’ blood
that your crown grows thorns.
that your prayers be answered,
that the ghosts arrive punctually~
no missed entrances, no skipped lines
and let them stand just so,
in perfect blocking,
downstage of your guilt.
And when at last the horses fail,
and the crown is traded for a nail,
may you hear,
beneath the drumbeat’s battle royal,
the same question, endlessly rehearsed:
Was it worth the play?
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